The Breaking Point
by Univenon
Summary: A scientist has a new position as head of Project 3602, one of the empire's most hidden research projects. Barely a day in and he's found that something, or someone, was missed. (Bit of an OC origin story. Takes place long before he becomes an adventurer. Rated for violence.)


I sat at my desk looking over a stack of paperwork. Never a good sign on one's first day at a new position, but I had been told before I even accepted it that there would be a lot of clean up to do. After all, it took a lot to dethrone a man who had overlooked the facility since it had become home to project 3602, some fifteen years previous.

My name is Adrian Argyris, not that many around here knew that. They just called me Sir a lot, or maybe Commander, if they were so inclined. Despite the rank, I was, in fact, more of a scientist than a warrior. The meaning of that was simple. I was not just a scientist, I was one who could get things done.

That was why they had requested I take over project 3602. It was top secret, something started after the still stalled invasion of Eorzea. I'd never thought that a small continent full of savages would be so difficult, but that was for others to ponder.

I picked up the sheet on top of the stack and read over it. It was a simple notice. In fact, it was the first thing I had found that was actually addressed to me. It simply stated that my next batch of test subjects were due to be arriving tomorrow. I nodded, finding myself eager to get started. The sooner I made some progress, the sooner I might get some time to go home and visit my wife and son.

I sighed at the thought of them. They felt so far from me. I'd never been so far out into the frontier before. The facility I was sitting in was, in fact, in Eorzea, or close to it. It was on the boarders of some forest. What was it called again? The Shroud. The facility was far from the grandiose affair that was Castrum Oriens, but it was my home for the time being. I told myself that I'd best get used to it. Even if the former project leader had been incompetent, there had to have been some reason he'd gotten nowhere.

"Sir?"

I looked up, seeing a soldier standing in the open door to my office. I nodded in acknowledgment. He gave me a salute.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I've been told to ask you... 'how you are settling in,' Sir." he said. I smiled a bit.

"Well enough. Is that to say you're to be my tour guide for the afternoon?" I asked him.

"Y-yes, Sir. I'm to show you the facility and answer any questions I can. When you are ready."

"I suppose now is as good a time as any," I replied, getting up from my desk. "Lead the way."

Together, the two of us made our way down from the offices, towards the areas where the experiments and test subjects were kept. I took a closer look at the soldier. He was middle-aged, with brown hair and a hard jaw. Judging from his current duty, I could only guess that he'd been with the project for a long time, perhaps since it's foundation, almost two decades past.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Richards, Sir," he replied simply. I nodded again.

"Alright Richards. How much do you actually know about this project?" I asked.

"Been here a long time, Sir. So about as much as someone of my rank is allowed to know."

"You've been with the project a long time?" I asked.

"About as long as anyone can, Sir." He paused a moment. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?" he asked.

"Granted."

"I know that there have been a lot of resources put into this, but I don't think it's going anywhere," he said simply.

"Enlighten me."

"Well... Most of the subjects die within a few weeks. They don't go out pleasantly either. Don't know how those Eorzeans cope. Aether toxicity, whatever that means, is a nasty way to go."

"Well, that's why we're testing on Eorzeans," I replied confidently, even if I wasn't actually that confident about it. Richards gave a shrug.

"If you say so, Sir," he replied.

"Speaking of test subjects, what do we have on hand?" I asked. Richards pulled out another sheet of paper.

"We have... two Elezen from the Shroud, a Lalafel... Oh, and that Miqo'te," he read.

"How are they looking at the moment?"

"Bad. As usual, Sir," he replied, giving a shake of his head. "The only not dieing is the Miqo'te."

"The cat's in a cell?"

"Should be, Sir."

"Let's go take a look then."

The subject in question was in his cell, like he was supposed to be. As I came closer, he shrank back into the shadows at the back. He was a scrawny thing. Young, maybe late teens, with shaggy green hair and a matching tail. I'd never known that Miqo'te had such odd hair colors before. The experiments had left him with a fair few scars, apparent on his bare back and shoulders. The lights on his magick suppressing shackles blinked from his wrists and neck.

"When was his last treatment?" I asked.

"Umm..." Richards looked back down at the sheet. "Three days ago, according to this, Sir."

"He looks well. Is he new?" I asked, wondering if the experiments had simply not had time to cause the usual side effects.

"Not sure... no one ever told me how to read these things. I think he's been here a while, Sir."

"What's his number? Should be at the top."

"Oh." He scanned over the sheet again. "3602-7."

"...Say again?" I asked.

"3602-7, Sir."

I found myself smiling a little. Incompetent indeed, but I had to make sure.

"What's the number on... the Lalafel?" I asked, picking one at random.

"3602-359, Sir" he answered.

"Interesting..." I said, looking at the subject with renewed interest.

"Sir?" asked Richards.

"You see, Richards. The number given to the subjects is like this. The first part designates the project number. That's 3602. The number after that indicates the specific subject, based on the order that they are enrolled in the project," I explained.

"You mean... that kid is number seven?"

"Exactly. Someone missed something rather important it seems. This cat's been handling the treatments for years, and he's still alive..." I knocked on the bars. "You! Subject, where are you from?" I asked. It said nothing, simply staring at me.

"That one doesn't talk, Sir. Never heard a word out of him. Most beg for mercy half way through the first treatment. At least, as far as I've seen."

I considered. I shook my head, turning back to Richards.

"I think I've seen enough for now. I'm going back to my office," I said.

"What about the uhh... subject, Sir?" he asked. I shook my head.

"We'll see how much as been missed tomorrow. I need to write up a report."

A while later, I sat in my office, pondering the possible meanings of my recent discovery. I'd found that the files on subject seven were a mess, but I'd managed to gather the scattered data from the various files it had been stashed it. Honestly, if I didn't know better, I'd say this was hidden on purpose.

Either way, I had subject seven's complete file on my desk, looking for something that could have made him unique. There was little to find. Subject seven's father had been executed after the invasion of Ala Mhigo and his mother had been imprisoned and pressed for information until she too met and early demise. Then, he's been passed off as a subject to get him out of the way. Honestly, it was pretty standard for the acquisition of test subjects.

I searched through the files of the project as a whole, looking for something, anything that made him stand out. The only thing I could pick out was his age. He was the youngest at time of acquisition by a long shot. Perhaps that was the key to making project 3602 a success. I leaned back in my chair, going over the project in my thoughts.

The goal was simple. It was known fact that a person's ability to channel aether into magick is determined at birth. The more aether one can channel, the more powerful the magick one can cast. 3602 was meant to find some way to change that, to boost a person's aethric capacity through artificial means. The theory was that, by pushing that capacity to it's limit, then slowly going past it, may do just that.

And, for some reason, it seemed to have worked, just this once.

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense to me. Subject seven had started treatment at a very young age. Perhaps aethric capacity wasn't decided only at birth, but in the early years of development as well? That would explain why Eorzeans, with their high levels of ambient aether, were more adept with magicks.

I sat forward in my chair, looking down at the files again. I would have to find out exactly how well the treatments had worked in the morning.

The next morning, I stood in the observation room, looking out through the windows into the main testing chamber. Below the windows was a long line of consoles for controlling the testing equipment and measuring aether levels. I had a couple of lower ranking scientists working the consoles for me and, with a few questions, found out that all of them were new as well.

I made a mental note to look into how often that happened around here. It might explain why subject seven had gone unnoticed for so long. The soldiers were never told the purpose of the project, so they wouldn't know what to look for. At this point, it seemed impossible that someone could be so incompetent without trying.

Out beyond the windows, was the main testing chamber. There was a square wall in the center, about ten by ten, equipped with restraints where the subjects were held during the treatments. The restraints themselves were what channeled the aether into the subjects from a batch of stored crystals.

"Bring in 3602-7," I said, eager to get things underway. The soldiers brought him in soon after. The Miqo'te struggled weakly, but I thought it looked rather halfhearted. They strapped him to the wall, linking the restraints to all three of his magick suppressing shackles. He held his own weight, looking up at the windows. I could tell he was afraid from here.

At that moment, looking down at him, I hesitated. Looking at a file was one thing. Looking down at him, watching him shake with fear at what he knew was about to happen, was rather another. My thoughts went to my son, back home.

"Sir? We're ready to start," came a voice.

"Good," I said, pushing the thoughts aside. I needed to focus. "Proceed."

"Starting aethric injection in three, two, one."

There was little to show that the experiment had started. The magitech started up with a hum. I saw the room's aethric readings begin to rise. Subject seven tensed, his shackles lighting up, but he displayed no other signs of discomfort.

"Base aethric limit reached. Proceeding to stage two."

I watched the aether levels rise with anticipation, my eyes moving back and forth between the display and subject seven. Even with his base limit long behind, it was some time before he began to show any signs of even feeling the experiment.

Then, he started screaming. The sound was dulled by the glass, but it struck me with a suddenness that almost made me call a halt to the experiment immediately. I took a calming breath. I looked at the readings again. It was no mistake. Subject seven had far surpassed his original limits. Project 3602 was a success.

But I had little time to bask in my new-found success. If I didn't call this off, I might end up with a very dead subject seven.

"That's enough," I said. The scientist gave me a nod and went to work. Subject seven's screaming stopped rather abruptly and I gave a sigh of relief. There was a moment of silence.

"Umm... Sir?"

"What is it?" I asked.

"The machine... It's not responding," he said, looking over his shoulder to me.

"What? That... doesn't make any sense. The subject is..." I looked down at the aether reading. They were still rising. I ran to the window, looking out at subject seven. He was hanging limp in his restraints now, as if recovering, his eyes hidden by his shaggy hair. I shook my head. There had to be some kind of anomaly in the equipment.

Then I saw that subject seven was smiling.

I backed away from the window, trying to process even a little of what might be happening. The shackles on subject seven began to glow red hot, the circuits inside sparking as they fried. Then, just as quickly, the red vanished, replaced by a thin layer of frost.

Subject seven shattered the weakened metal as he wrenched himself free of the restrained, his wrists burned raw from the heated metal. I leapt towards the command console and hit the alarm.

"We have a breach in the main testing chamber! All guards are to restrain the subject!" I called, my voice booming through the facility.

Two soldiers burst into the chamber immediately, weapons drawn. Subject seven turned to face them and threw a blast of flame with his bare hands. The glass shattered inward, pelting us with shards. I protected myself with my arm, feeling only a few small cuts as the glass went past me. As I lowered my arm, I saw that one of the guards was now little more than a charred skeleton.

The other soldier hesitated, taking a step back. Subject seven took a step forward after him, then, with a wave of his hand, threw the soldier back against the wall and impaled him with a spear of ice. I was frozen in shock as I watched the grizzly scene play out.

It was one of the other scientists that made me realize what kind of danger I was in. He screamed making a break for the door. Before he could make it, subject seven came through the window and struck him with a bolt of lightning. He collapsed against the door and went still. The other scientist pulled a pistol, but before he could aim it, subject seven took him by the face and literally burned it off.

I clawed my way back to the communications console.

"Subject has escaped! Do not engage! I repeat, do not engage!" I shouted. Subject seven looked to me, my voice drawing him as I knew it would. I turned to face him, but I had no weapon and no way to escape before he would kill me. He dropped the still twitching remains of my colleague, making his way towards me slowly.

In a flash, he had me by the throat, pushing me back against the console. His fingers felt cold against my skin. I saw a layer of jagged ice forming on his wrist, felt sharp points digging into my neck as I struggled for breath. He smiled again.

"Die..."

 _Project 3602_

 _Status: Discontinued_

 _Note: Subject 3602-7 is still at large. Last sighted fleeing into the Shroud. If spotted, do not engage. Inform superiors immediately._


End file.
